


Do I Throw My Clothes In The Fire?

by walkerofthestars



Series: With Morality Like a Polynomial [1]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, BTHB, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Hallucinations, Psychosis, Speed Force, Whump, what have I done?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29275566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkerofthestars/pseuds/walkerofthestars
Summary: "The blur flashed by once more and Barry gave chase.He had no idea, no clues or guesses as to who this was. Some distant thought hypothesisedas to one yellow-clothed speedster, but Barry shut the thought down quickly.Wally was dead. Had been for ten years. This was not Wally."Ten years ago the Justice League’s covert Operations team was lost to the Light. Or at least, that’s what they thought.
Series: With Morality Like a Polynomial [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150019
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	Do I Throw My Clothes In The Fire?

**Author's Note:**

> This was Beta read by the magnificent [Sky_Warrior01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_Warrior01) !  
> this is my first fic posted for my BTHB card, filling in the space 'what have I done?'. there will be more to this as a series, just you wait! I've got big plans.  
> the title is from Gang of Youths song 'What can I do if the fire goes out?'

Barry stood in the watchtower, eyes distant and mind afar.

The other members of the league milled about; they’d just finished another meeting. The contents of the meeting were already filtering out of his brain.

He’d been out of it all day. Tired and feeling slightly off, something in the back of his head was irking him and there was a strange feeling under his skin, like an itchy sort of restlessness.

He held back a shiver as his muscles tensed. Something felt wrong and he didn’t know why.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder and he jumped, head whipping to look at Clark.

“you alright Barry?” Clark asked, eyes concerned, and brow furrowed.

“yeah, yeah, fine,” Barry said, blinking as he zoned back into reality, “just… tired I guess? I’ve been feeling off all day.”

“sick?”

“I don’t think so…” Barry rubbed at the back of his neck.

“head home, and get some sleep,” Clark suggested.

Barry offered a smile and bid farewell before speeding for the zeta tubes. As he slowed he shuddered, and his feet fell out from under him.

His insides screeched, his powers…

Something was wrong with the speed force. Something was _wrong_.

“Barry?!” Clark rushed over to help him up.

“I don’t…” Barry groaned, getting his feet under him. The speed force continued to throw a tantrum and he could feel it. like his insides were turning to static, his skin was buzzing, needles were pricking up his legs, “I…”

Clark helped him towards the zeta tubes.

Barry took a deep breath, trying to figure out what was _wrong_. It would be great if the speed force could learn to speak, or at least find a way to communicate its issues in a way other than throwing a massive hissy fit by draining power into anyone with a connection to it.

He swallowed down spit and shook his head, closed his eyes and tried his damndest to _listen_.

_Light, light, light, colour, sound, pain_ and then _smash, concrete, rubble, moving, moving, moving, fear crawling up the back of his neck, heart faster than a jackrabbit and limbs aching, aching, aching, but having to stay moving, moving, moving and-_

Barry pushed himself off of Clark, stumbled, and then lurched into the zeta tubes, headed for Central City.

He sped to the nearest roof and looked out at his city. Smoke was in the distance, and there was a tower missing from the skyline that Barry could’ve _sworn_ was there yesterday. He blinked, zoning out once more as the speed force continued to wail and cry. He stood, hunched, on the roof, the sound of sirens appearing at some point. He snapped out of it once he spied helicopters circling the smoke.

He should be there.

He breathed in, ready to get going, and as he did another skyscraper shuddered, he heard a _crack_ and a _boom_ and then the second tower fell.

The speed force _sang_ , relishing in whatever the hell was happening and Barry could feel energy leaking into the world, a damn breaking and water washing out in waves.

Barry gritted his teeth and sped towards the tower that was falling slowly, on path to run into another two buildings.

Energy bled into his bones and he found himself hitting top speed in no time. He kept just below the speed of sound to avoid adding to the destruction himself.

He sped up the side of the building, grabbing as many people as he could. Plucking people from by broken windows that had been shattered, pushing them from the path of debris.

Eventually the tower had to hit the ground, Barry could only go so fast without making things worse and he couldn’t save everyone. He took a moment, hitting his league communicator to call the watchtower.

“I need as many people as possible in Central now, dunno what the situation is quite yet but I’ve got two skyscrapers down and I’m expecting more. I’ll update once I have more info.”

The speed force lurched once more and Barry watched a yellow blur of colour streak through reality before physically glitching, spazzing out and ripping holes into the air as it disappeared and reappeared.

What the hell.

Barry headed for the blur, trying to keep up. It was faster than him and kept disappearing and vibrating at too quick a speed for Barry to figure out what it was.

The blur shuddered once more, the speed force surged, and the air turned hot. Barry watched as the blur appeared once more and _rammed_ into the base of another building. The side of it rippled, the windows shattering, the concrete cracking, the metal creaking. And the tower began to fall, debris shaking loose and dropping from the top.

Barry grabbed hold of as many people as possible from the street to remove them from the danger zone. The blur was no longer disappearing, now merely speeding around, unable to stay still and vibrating like crazy.

The tower continued to fall, and Barry continued to try and pluck people from its path.

As it reached a degree of about 45 from the ground Barry heard another boom and looked up to find Superman holding up the building, the metal creaking and beginning to curl around the man of steel as he pushed back.

“go after the speedster,” Clark ordered over his own communicator.

Barry nodded well aware Clark could see it from where he was courtesy of super sight.

The blur flashed by once more and Barry gave chase.

He had no idea, no clues or guesses as to who this was. Some distant thought hypothesised as to one yellow-clothed speedster, but Barry shut the thought down quickly.

Wally was dead. Had been for ten years. This was not Wally.

The blur seemed to have no destination in mind, it almost seemed as of it just couldn’t stop. It was slowing, ever so slightly, losing velocity as it continued to move through the real world, faced with friction and solid mass.

Barry’s current guess was that whoever this was, they’d been trapped in the speed force. What he was feeling was their escape and they were now working off the aftereffects. Barry had been in the speed force himself, it wasn’t overly enjoyable, and he knew that the withdrawal was less than comfortable.

But he wasn’t fast enough. He just couldn’t catch up, and eventually he lost the yellow blur and had to admit defeat.

A wall, cold, hard, slamming into his face, he was going slow enough that it didn’t crumble beneath the force and he was relieved by that for a few moments before he was too busy throwing up.

He stumbled further, managing to recognise that he was walking down an alley between an apartment building and a corner store. There were a few dumpsters lining the sides and at the end it opened to a car park. It was still dark, the sun slowly creeping towards the horizon and beginning to bleach the sky. His foot landed in a puddle and he shook it off, lost his balance, fell over, shuddered as the cold hit him once more, then shuffled back to the wall and curled in on himself.

He rocked back and forward, vision still blurry and sound zipping between his ears faster than he ever could run. He was hungry, his entire body hurt, he was cold, he felt like he was going to throw up again and his heart was still beating too quickly, he felt energy and tension building up inside himself.

And his name was Wally West.

He sobbed, curling tighter on himself.

Things were hazy, distant, his memories were all over the place and he wasn’t sure if this was even real or all a hallucination, but he _knew_ his name was Wally West.

And he was still wearing his Kid Flash uniform.

It had stretched and torn over the… years? How long had he been in Speed Force? How long had his life just been pain and sound and energy and light? He hadn’t felt anything comforting for so long, hadn’t had a hug in forever, and he was quite sure if someone laid a hand on him reassuringly he’d probably fall to pieces right then and there.

Really, touch starved didn’t even _begin_ to describe his current state.

But that aside, he needed clothes.

He wanted to fall apart, wanted to stay where he was for eternity, but he also wanted to go _home_. He couldn’t rock up on his front doorstep like this he’d give his mother a fright.

He pulled himself up to his feet, stomach lurching and he leant heavily on the wall. He slid down, the feeling of the concrete scraping along his arm was distant. His heart was pounding in his ears.

He blinked, sight going hazy and blurry. His ears rang.

He pushed his hand against the wall, trying to get back up but it fazed through. The cement crumbled, turned to dust beneath his fingers.

There was a boom in the back of his mind, the sound of something big getting hit by something bigger. His heart lurched up into his chest, he swayed back away from the wall, looking at his hand that was now covered in cement dust, his spine shivered, and he looked up to the slowly lightening sky to find it filled with falling debris.

He gasped and ran down to the end of the hall, going too fast, too fast, _too fast_ , and slamming into the bricks. His hands splayed against the cold surface, covered in dust, dust, dust, ~~blood~~ , dust.

He turned, back against the cement and he ran a hand through his hair as he looked at the place he’d just been sitting. His vision was still slightly hazy at the corners, but he couldn’t tell if he was looking at debris or nothing or smoke. He ran his hand down his face and felt cold sweat but when he opened his eyes he saw-

Red, red, red. And his mouth tasted of iron.

What was happening-he didn’t understand-what was going on-why was he-

He shuddered a breath into his lungs. He felt the speed force under his skin, a familiar sense that was forever lingering.

This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

A car horn blared in the distance and he jumped. Reality turned on an axis as everything clicked into focus for a second before the panic started rising again.

Distantly he remembered things. It was like remembering a dream. Buildings falling and the sky coming down upon him and pain, pain, pain, and screaming, screaming, so much _screaming_ that would never stop echoing in his ears, but he couldn’t _stop_.

What had he done?

He lurched and vomited again. The brick wall behind him cold and hot and hard and nothing.

He pushed away the not-memories, the fake-life, the not-real. They couldn’t be real. They weren’t real. He refused to believe they were because _he would never-_

A sob racked his chest once more.

Dreaming. Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, he had to be _dreaming_ , this couldn’t be _real_.

But it felt real now, and it felt real then, and everything was rushing through his fingertips and he was _so cold_ , the real world was _so cold_ compared to the speed force where there was too much energy to feel anything but pain ripping through your entire body right to your soul.

He wanted clothes. He wanted _out_ of this damned suit and he wanted to lie down forever and ever and ever and never get up again.

But this wasn’t real. Who cared?

Him. Right now he cared. It wasn’t real and he didn’t care but he cared enough to want some _damn clothes_.

There was a corner store. He’d seen a corner store, was that real or was it fake or was it a dream and what was the difference between the three?

He sped off, straight into the store too fast for anyone to see, all they could feel was the gust of wind. The door opened and shut but they pushed it away as the wind. He snatched a shirt and pants and underwear, all cheap things but he didn’t _care_ , he just wanted something on his skin that was soft and nice and _warm_. He grabbed a hoodie and a pair of sneakers and he bolted for the first public bathroom he could remember from when he was a kid and used to know Central city off the back of his hand.

He didn’t want to run anymore he didn’t want to feel the speed force creeping up on him like a fake comforting presence. He didn’t want it. not right now.

He just wanted sleep, he wanted warmth, he wanted to know whether this was real because he didn’t want to get his hopes up unless he was _sure_.

He heard a scream in the distance and jumped, whipping his head back and forth as he tried to find the source of the sound. He couldn’t. was someone in danger? Should he help? That was his thing, wasn’t it?

But if this wasn’t real it didn’t matter. But if it were real he’d be ignoring someone who needs help.

His breathing picked up, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked a little faster.

He needed to find Barry. That’d be the smart thing to do. Barry could tell him what the hell was going on, if any of this was real, why Wally felt so damn _wrong_ , like someone had spun all his dials and undone all his screws.

But where was Barry?

Wally remembered Barry’s house, but he wasn’t so sure about how to get there. He remembered _being_ there, but his brain seemed to have decided the trip wasn’t interesting enough to catalogue. And he…

He looked around at the street, the road, the stores, the apartments. He didn’t know where he was.

he swallowed, fidgeting with his hands in his pockets as he continued to walk, taking random turns as he attempted to remember exactly where he was and where he was going.

He came upon a homeless shelter. Several people were milling about, bundled up and making conversation in a few areas. It was now decently bright, the sun was peeking its way over the horizon, ever so slowly.

The building was just a large rectangle with a roof on it. there was a roller door on the end Wally was approaching from and several windows. There was a sign over the roller door and a notice board next to it with cracked, yellowing papers tacked up next to bright white ones.

Wally’s stomach grumbled, loud and obnoxiously. He clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to take resources from people who needed them. He could find Barry and then he could eat but…

He approached, shoulders tense. He found someone who looked like they were volunteering there, they were wiping down benches, and stepped up to her.

“uh, hi,” he said, trying for a smile, “Uh… you wouldn’t happen to know directions to uh… Clancy street?”

That was the one wasn’t it? Wally thought he remembered a street sign with Clancy written on it.

The volunteer stood straight from the table she was wiping down, huffed a breath out as she thought, “doesn’t ring a bell, what you looking for?”

“uh, my uncle’s house,” Wally answered. His voice sounded… wrong. It was too deep and weird, and his throat felt strange making sounds after so long, “I haven’t visited in a while and…” he scratched the back of his head, “yeah, it’s complicated.”

The woman gave him a kind and understanding smile, “it’s okay, do you remember your uncle’s number?”

Wally opened his mouth to say ‘yes’ but then changed his mind because no, he didn’t.

“sorry,” he gave a grimace.

“it’s okay, is he the type people would know?”

“oh, definitely.”

“okay, well how about I get you something to eat, you can sit down for a while, and I’ll ask around.”

Wally was sure there was some kind of reason he shouldn’t do that but also he didn’t care, and he was okay with it. what would this random do with the name Barry Allen?

“I don’t think the food is necessary- “

“you kidding? You look starved. Sit your skinny ass down,” she grinned.

Wally tried to continue arguing but his stomach rumbled, and the girl looked at him like she’d caught him out.

Wally sighed, “okay, yeah, I’d appreciate some food, thank you so much.”

“Okay, kitchen’s this way.”

She lead him over to where the food was and gave him a plate of scrambled eggs, tomatoes and bacon. He gave her the name Barry Allen and then she started chatting to people in an attempt to find Wally his long-lost uncle.

Wally went back to the tables, hunching over the meal. He was starving but he didn’t quite realise how starved till he had hoarked down half the food as fast as he could without using his super speed.

He saw someone watching him like he was an Olympic champion for food eating. He gave them an awkward smile and forced himself to eat slower, turning to the TV hanging from the wall to distract himself from eating like he’d never eaten before.

A news caster was giving the early morning breakfast news, face serious and perfectly calm. Wally could hear the voice from where he was, but the subtitles were on and he found his eyes automatically stuck on them.

“our headline news for today; the destruction in the CBD.”

What? Wally frowned.

“three skyscrapers were brought down after suffering impact from an unknown force which cameras caught as only a yellow blur. The Flash, Superman, Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel all made an appearance in an attempt to save people from the wreckage. Despite their efforts, the ruins spread to damage five surrounding buildings, set off a fire and caused three car accidents. The current toll is approximated at 74 injured and 28 dead, updates will continue on the hour.”

Wally dropped his fork, staring at the screen.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

_The sky was falling on him and screams were echoing everywhere, and he couldn’t slow down, he couldn’t slow down, he couldn’t slow down-_

His hands were shaking, and he shoved them into his pockets. His food felt dangerously close to coming back up.

That couldn’t have been him, surely not. He would never- he _wouldn’t_!

But he had. He had and it was real, it had to be real. Everything felt so real, the closest to real he’d felt in years. But if this was real then that was real, and he had- he had-

_74 injured and 28 dead._

Approximately.

He had. He didn’t even remember it. he didn’t even remember it, he hadn’t even tried, it had just happened and he-

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Flash was there. Barry was there. Barry had _seen_ it happen and he-

Did he know? Did he know it was him? Could he tell?

If he didn’t he’d figure it out as soon as Wally showed up on his doorstep. He’d know and Wally would have to explain himself, but he couldn’t. what was there to explain? He didn’t know what was happening, he couldn’t stop running, he could barely see, he was scared, he was in pain, he- he- he-

He would be thrown in Iron Heights with a collar around his neck and his uncle would hate him forever and his friends would hate him, and he’d be in a cell for the rest of eternity because he’d _murdered people and hadn’t even tried, hadn’t stopped, hadn’t even thought-_

He was dangerous. What if he just disappeared mentally, faded out concentration wise and lost all comprehension and started hurting people?

He stood from the table and sped away and didn’t look back.

He had no idea where he could go, no idea at all but he just needed to be anywhere without people. Anywhere that he couldn’t hurt anyone. Anywhere that he could just _think_.

He might have broken the sound barrier at some point, he might have crossed a desert. He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that eventually he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he collapsed, crying, sobbing, panicking. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t, didn’t know how he could have _done that-_

He was Wally West, that’s all he knew.


End file.
